Take a Shower for Your Country
by MakaioRed
Summary: South Africa invites Italy to his house for a barbeque and, naturally, South Africa comes onto Italy. Zimbabwe is OOC, definitely, not the form seen on the show.


Nights are always long, but afternoons spent in world conferences are ever longer. Two countries met by chance at such a conference. Their names were South Africa and Italy. South Africa invited Italy to the cottage he was vacationing in, telling him that other countries were going to meet there for a braai. South Africa, however, had other plans; there were to be no others in attendance at his home. He wanted to show Italy certain things about himself, like his pot belly, photos of his twenty wives and the tool he used to impregnate them with. He lay in wait, preparing his braai tools, while Italy walked along the street to the cottage.

Being invited to a 'braai', Italy had no idea what he was in for. His mind was transfixed on carbohydrates: pasta, pizza, spaghetti, pasta, pasta and pasta. In contrast, he was going to get some really oily, fatty meat put on top of a grill with burning charcoal.

When he walked into the front yard of the small cottage, Italy noticed that South Africa looked even more overweight in a vest and jeans. It was a stark contrast to the chinese Armani knock-off he had on at the conference, which had made him look ten years thinner.

South Africa was standing behind what America would call a barbeque stand (though South Africa had dismissed any notion of calling it by such an appalling name). It was a braai stand, and he was twirling a piece of meat around with great tact.

South Africa placed all of the cooked meat into metal trays and turned around to look at his new guest, with an evil spark in his dark brown eyes that could only spell 'attempted yaoi'. "Welcome Italy, I'm glad you came."

Italy thought South Africa was being polite, but he noticed they were the only two countries there. "Thank-a you South Africa. Where is everyone else-a?"

"They'll be here soon," South Africa said with an evil twang. "Sometime tomorrow."

"What?" Italy said surprised. He stepped a few paces back from South Africa. Italy's Pizza Sense was tingling: danger was present.

"Oh, they wanted to get you pizza before they got here. Have a seat."

Unfortunately Italy's Pizza Sense detected pizza as well as danger, and usually the former had the power to override the danger detection. "Really!?" Italy exclaimed, foolishly taking a seat. "Thank you for letting me know-a South Africa. I can't-a wait-a."

South Africa sat down at the table with Italy. "Please, call me Jake."

"Okay," Italy agreed. "So what did you think of the conference, Jake?"

A sly smile appeared on South Africa's round face. "I couldn't stop looking at your ass."

"What?!" an alarmed Italy shouted.

"I couldn't stop looking at Russia's duress," South Africa said quickly.

"Oh," Italy said. "I thought you said-a something else-a."

Again South Africa went to the deep end when he said, "I want to tickle your ass with a feather."

"What?!" Italy shouted in the same manner as before.

"Particularly nasty weather," South Africa said innocently (until proven guilty on several corruption charges).

"Oh, really. You know I have played Leisure Suit Larry. You can't go stealing-a lines like that."

"I'm South Africa, I steal from my own people and not even they complain."

South Africa got up from his chair and fetched a tray full of braaied meat. He put it in the centre of the table, and handed paper plates and a few eating utensils to Italy.

After eating some of the food, Italy said, "Mama mia, South Africa, this wars is really good."

"It's called _wors,_" South Africa corrected irritably.

"So what's new at home?" Italy asked innocently.

"Was that something racist?" South Africa asked. This was a very common response from South Africa. Someone could say the sky is red and he'll think it's racist.

"No, no, why would you say that?"

"That's how you countries are," South Africa said harshly. "Look, my skin is sun baked, not sun fried. All natural."

"Ah, okay."

"And what cute eyes you have," Jake said out of the blue.

"What?" Italy said.

South Africa's tone changed to a very sexy tone. "I could use a twenty first wife."

"WHAT?!" Italy screamed.

"You could drop the soap and I'll always be there for you."

Italy got up from his seat, cringing at the images. "South Africa what's wrong with you."

"Then after I'm finished with you I'll take a shower to get rid of any infections."

"Hey, I'm pretty healthy."

"I was talking about me."

"Can I bribe you South Africa? To leave me alone. I am not interested."

"Oyo!" South Africa exclaimed, with a completely different accent, inferring some the cultural variety to be found in his home town. "How much are we talking, laanie?"

"I'll give you ten euro's."

"It is _I_ who should be paying _you._ Labola. But if you think you're going to leave then I'll have to show you my secret weapon to keep you here."

Italy's eyes witnessed a horror worse than Bella with a bush; he witnessed South Africa taking his pants off. "What are you doing? Why are you taking your clothes off?"

"There is a connection between us, baas," South Africa explained while pulling off his briefs. "Eish, you are so fly."

"Why is your… your… thing..."

"My Zoom-a Maker!"

"Whatever it is called. Why is coloured-a like a rainbow? You do have a disease-a."

"No, I'm the rainbow nation. But I have a virus instead, and I want to give it to you," South Africa said, stalking closer to his prey. His rainbow coloured 'wors' going from the size of a middle finger to the size of a thumb.

South Africa grabbed a hold of Italy, who screamed, "No! Please, South Africa, let go, I want to go home."

At that moment another figure entered the garden. His action was swift and bold; Italy was pulled back out of the way and South Africa was pushed to the ground.

"Get away from him, you swine!" Germany shouted.

"Germany, you will pay for this!" South Africa shouted, getting up and dusting himself off. "You should have let me into the 2006 world cup."

"You should have stayed at home Jake," Germany said bluntly. "Go get another wife. You've been staring at too many monkeys; your nose is bleeding."

With those final words, German and Italy left South Africa's holiday home, and walked along the street to a bar far enough away from South Africa.

South Africa entered his home, and walked into his bedroom. When he passed through the entrance of the room he said, "Eish, defeated again. At least I have you Zimbabwe; you're always there for me."

"Ooo, oo, oo, ah, ah, ah," Zimbabwe, the chimp, cheered. The little chimp climbed onto the bed and made more primate-like sounds. Though, it must be said, lately it has become more difficult to tell which country of the two is the primate.


End file.
